Before I Sleep
by Tazmy
Summary: Without food or weapon, McKay has to keep running until he's safe and has kept his promise. Follow up vignette now up as Chapter Two.
1. Chapter 1

_Tipper issued a challenge (right now my internet is too slow for me to link you) to write a story inspired by poetry. I chose the end of "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost. I just started a new story that explores the theme from this vignette. It's called Victory or Death.  
_

_Thanks to Layla for the quick beta!_

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep."

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening  
By Robert Frost

…

Rodney held the bundle of clothes close to his chest, careful to keep the cold at bay. Snow crunched beneath his weight. His breath held still in the winter air. White flakes chilled him, and as he walked, he shivered.

A cry bellowed from beneath the clothing. Rodney rocked it gently, his pace increasing. "As if you haven't cried enough already! Oh, come on, can't you give me a break? At the very least, not reveal our position to everyone trying to kill us?"

Bright blue eyes bore into his heart. Rodney pulled the edges of the blanket closer, unwilling or unable to handle the baby's gaze. "Yes, yes, I know you're hungry, believe me, I understand hungry, but we can't stop. Not now. This would just be a lot easier if you'd stop complaining."

The screams didn't die down, and no amount of begging was going to change that.

If anyone was still following, Rodney couldn't see them, but he wasn't Ronon and he didn't trust his instincts. He couldn't take the chance that he had missed something, couldn't risk slowing down even to feed an incessant baby. Even to feed himself.

How many hours had it been since he'd first started running? Since the kid had been thrust into his arms by a weeping, injured women with hair the color of blood? Since he'd escaped without his radio or a weapon or food. How many hours until he reached the gate or passed out trying? How many miles before he could find rest?

"We've got to keep going. I hope this is the right direction. She did point this way, right? I know, I know, you're just a kid, but if I'm going the wrong way it is in your best interest to let me know."

His legs were lead, his arms weak. His shoulders seared with pain. He kept his concentration on moving and talking, trying not to think about the running nose he couldn't wipe, or the unbearable complaints from his stomach. At least the child had stilled, her voice lost to the breeze. Miles to go and they were forever from civilization. The trees towered above him, rising into the night sky. He fancied the trees were protecting him, not looming over him, not foreboding.

There was a loveliness to the forest that Rodney was well acquainted with. As a child, he used to hide among the pine and oak, curling in the mud under the branches' cover. That was before he'd become a hypochondriac…before his mom had died, swallowed by the deep forest.

Rodney held the child closer to his chest. She was an orphan now, and for once the Wraith weren't to blame. Principalities, war, hate…Rodney shuddered. He could still feel the cold cement. He could remember the nails that dug into his shoulder as he was thrust behind bars. No one listened when he asked about his team, and though weeks had gone by, Rodney had never ceased asking. It was on the fifth week that the bombs fell, the world shook, and he found himself free.

…

Worn and hungry, Rodney raced from his cell. Among the starving and restless, the cries of other escapees, and the howls of the recaptured, it was impossible to breathe. He never stopped to try, forcing himself forward despite the pain in his calves and the sirens in his ears.

A cold hand grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him beyond a door. Rodney whirled around, his gaze falling onto a delicate woman who was little more than bones.

"Please, you will be safe here a moment. Stay with me."

Her name was Adriana and her green eyes were soft, as though the light within them would disappear at a moment's notice. She smiled kindly and made him tea.

"They separated me from my team," he explained, "grabbing me in the middle of the night. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you? Or what about my team. Tall fellow with crazy hair. Bigger fellow that likes to look menacing or—"

"I wish I had an answer for you." She did not raise her cup to broken lips, but instead cradled her legs against her chest. Her breaths came slow.

Adriana sheltered him for an hour, offering him the last of her meal. Her skin was lighter than the snow, her eyes blue but glossy. She rocked the little one in her arms. "At least I have lived to see you free," she told the child.

The coughing fit seized her body. Rodney raced to her, encouraging her to continue the fight against whatever plagued her, but in the end, he knew there was no hope. And he could see she knew it, too.

"Please," she begged, "please, just save her. I cannot travel any further, but you, you are not from here. You can go now, and one day, allow her to return. Allow her to bring hope to my people."

Rodney didn't understand the words at the time, but he felt carried by them. Adriana died the moment he had taken the baby from her, but it wasn't until he heard the fall of feet that Rodney began to run.

…

He stumbled against a rock, his foot sliding to the side. One arm held tight to the baby while another reached for the closest tree. He caught himself from tumbling, but still landed on the ground with a startled thump. The baby began to cry once more.

"Oh no, don't do that. You're okay. Really…I…Oh, quiet."

His ankle was throbbing, but the snow was soothing. Rodney gazed at the stars above, soaking in the world around him. It was so cold and he was so very hungry and he still had miles to go.

"I can't do this," he whispered. "I don't know why your mother thought I could. Desperation made her blind, I suppose, but I can't do this. I'm a scientist, not a babysitter and not in track and…"

It felt so good to sit down, to allow his limbs rest. Snow melted in his palm and he sipped greedily before realizing the kid was as much in need as he was. "Here, it's not much, but…" He cupped his hands together, allowing the baby to sip of the melted snow.

Man could not live on water alone, and he was already afraid of how the child would survive the cold. Hoisting himself onto his good ankle, he cautiously took another step forward only for his ankle to buckle beneath his weight.

"C'mon, McKay. You can do this. Think like Sheppard. Be like Sheppard. He could do this. You can do this."

He managed to stay upright with the next step, and thus taking the baby in his arms, continued along the path. Miles to go and he could rest. What were miles to weeks in imprisonment?

He glanced left and then right, squinting into the darkness to try and find shadows. His ears picked up no strange sounds, his eyes no sights. The wind howled and the snow buckled beneath him. The baby drew silent breaths.

"How do I always get myself into these situations? I should go back to Earth and find a nice peaceful lab with no people trying to kill me or psycho diplomats or crying babies."

After a while it became difficult to talk, rushed breaths fighting against his words. So he fell into silence, allowing the thoughts to run through his mind, blanketing him in the illusion of comfort and hope. Were there still miles ahead? He had lost track.

The baby—he really should think of a name for it—had yet to cry again, and as he watched the sun make its way above the branches and into the purple sky, he grew worried. "Hey, you, you okay? C'mon, make a sound…" He lifted the baby in his aching arms, and it began to cry again. For a moment, he was glad to hear the wails, but the euphoria quickly wore off. "Okay, I get it, you're alive. Now go back to sleep, will you?" But the child would not be silenced.

He dubbed the child Angela, if only because Adriana had seen her that way—as an angel. Rodney resisted smiling as he looked down at the kid, his steps faltering until he was forced to find shelter beneath an oak-sycamore-something-entirely-different tree-hybrid. He could barely make out Angela's sweet baby blues beyond his cloudy vision. His stomach had long since stopped complaining, but his ankle felt angry enough to quit working altogether.

"We'll just take a rest, shall we?"

He once again cradled snow in his hands. He had to restrain himself from partaking before it melted, but he paused between each serving to help Angela. Though his arms delayed obeying his command, forcing him to use all of his willpower just to lift them an inch, he moved to change Angela's cloth diaper with some wraps he had found in Adriana's home. He held his nose as far away as possible, desperately trying not to hurl from the stench.

"Oh, God, I really hate this. Can't we just be home now?" He scowled at the soiled clothing, opting to leave it in the white pasture. "Where are clean wipes when I need them? Why did I agree to bring you along again?" He had unwillingly changed his sister's diapers before, but at least that had been in sanitary conditions.

Angela kicked with her tiny legs. He imagined she was telling him to get moving again, because he needed someone to do just that.

"We should be there soon. I don't think we're being followed anymore. Or I hope not. Your mom seemed to think you were important enough that they'd follow us to the ends of this world and beyond, but I think that was just the mother in her speaking. Everyone thinks their daughter is special, as if every baby isn't the same."

Angela smiled as Rodney swept her back into the air, his heart melting all over again. "Here we go, again."

It took some tries to get back on his feet, and he feared he might never walk again. That he'd be lost to the winds and storms, never to be found, or only to be taken from this world as a chunk of ice. "Just a bit more to go. Here we go. We can do this. I so can't do this." On that last note, he stood, and cradling the baby once more, he staggered forward. Miles to go and he'd be warm. He'd be safe and babyless and in a nice hot shower, away from the frosted woods.

He saw the gate just as a shadow danced behind the foliage. Then two more shadows to his left. Rodney crouched to the ground ignoring the cries from various limbs. Instinctively he reached for his weapon, but it was not there before and so it was not there now. He gazed beyond the cracks within the trees, yearning for some sign of what he had seen. He was so close; it wouldn't be fair to lose it all now.

Rodney shifted his arm in an effort to calm his shoulder. Angela cried out and the three shadows once more took form. Rodney tried to scurry away as he watched them approach, but he couldn't. Someone was speaking, but he couldn't make out the words. His ears burned so bad against the cold. The child was so heavy, and he was moments from breaking his promise. "I will keep her safe," he had said, and though he didn't know how, he planned to do just that.

Rodney bolted forward, breaking into a fast run. Everyone knew he wasn't a distance runner or even a fast runner, but adrenaline did amazing things and he was desperate.

"Rodney!"

He whirled around, only to collapse onto the snow, breaking his fall with one arm while holding Angela steady with the other. "Colonel?" he cried. How long had he yearned to hear those voice again?

With a last glance at Angela and then at the sheltering woods, he held tight to the baby. Exhaustion threatened to overcome him, and at the sight of his team, he allowed it to consume him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. Blankets of white snow caught him and he sank into a deep rest.


	2. Curmudgeon

_The sheer amount of responses asking, pleading, or gently nudging for more left me not choice but to write this small sequel vignette to the first one. I am also currently writing a story called Victory or Death that will answer any questions this fic brought up. I hope it works for you. Thanks so much for all your support. Thanks to Sholio for the beta!_

* * *

Rodney's first memory was of his mother bundling him into warm clothing, getting ready to face the numbing cold. She was a beautiful woman, much like his sister now: sweet and angelic in the eyes and the kindest person he had ever known. Well, his mother had started out that way, anyway. It wasn't until he was six that the yelling had begun. Until he was fifteen that her body was found in the forest. But he still held tight to the memory of her gentleness from so long ago. He dreamed of her comforting, beautiful smile. Of her sweet voice that would sing him to sleep. 

Decades later, he was wrapped in such a dream, feeling the warmth of a heavy coat his mom had insisted he wear.

A strange beeping intruded in the scene, and though he tried to hold to her image, his mother faded away. Something was wrapped tightly around him, keeping him warm but blocking his movement. The fabric was itchy but comforting. In the background, people talked, and was that a baby's cry?

He remembered a cold cell in which he had been held prisoner. He remembered running with a baby…with Angela.

"That's it, Rodney. You can wake up now. You're safe."

Recognizing Carson's cajoling voice, Rodney blinked his eyes open, though it took a great effort to do so. Familiar faces—faces he had longed to see—came into view, each of them smiling.

"It's good to have you back," Elizabeth said. She cradled something in her arms that made a sweet giggling sound.

"Is she okay?" Everything was lost in some large blur, but he remembered the feeling of importance, the necessity of getting this baby to safety.

Teyla was the one to answer. "She will be fine. Although we are all curious how you came to have such a young child in your care."

Rodney deliberately avoided Sheppard's grin, muttering only, "Long story."

….

At first, Rodney was hesitant to hold the small thing in his arms. "It might wet itself on me. Do you realize that? And what if I break her?"

"You ran through the forest with her for a good seventeen hours. If you didn't break her then, you won't now." Carson offered the child and milk bottle, which Rodney reluctantly swept from his gasp.

"And you're having me do this, why?" Another night had passed, though Rodney still wore scrubs, his bed angled in a ninety degree bend. He felt warm and safe, and had yet to demand his release from the infirmary. He suspected that the last fact troubled Carson, but was too exhausted to care.

He rocked Angela within his arms, a smile spreading itself across his face as though it were some plague taking hold of him. Angela drank happily.

"Teyla's going to bring her to the mainland in just a bit here, I thought you might like a few more minutes with her."

"And why would you think that?" But the bitterness didn't make it to his voice.

"I wouldn't know, Rodney. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You can't leave me with it."

"Her, Rodney, she's a her. And it'll only be a moment."

Rodney looked down helplessly at the child that he had brought to safety. He remembered the dark woods and the bitter cold that had encumbered their journey. How hungry they had been and how he couldn't feed her.

"It's good to eat, isn't it? I suppose that's one thing we have in common. And don't think that I'm ever going to do something like that again. I'm a mean man that's bad with people and I don't…"

Angela continued to suck from the bottle, apparently paying no mind to his words.

"You think I'm lying, but I'm not. I hate children. All of them. Including you. If your mother hadn't…"

Rodney shivered at the thought of Adriana. She had been a young woman, much too young to die. He wished he understood what had happened, but he didn't. Probably never would, as Elizabeth had marked the planet off limits. Six weeks of wondering whether Rodney was alive or not, or if he'd ever return, had ensured that Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with that world. But still, Rodney wondered about this woman with blood colored hair and what her story was. Why did she think Angela was so special?

"Your mother was beautiful," he told the baby. "She had red hair and green eyes. She loved you very much, so don't you ever doubt it. I know you're an orphan now, at least I don't think your dad is around and even if he is we'll never find him because…"

Blue eyes peered into his even as the child continued to eat greedily.

"Right, off topic. As I was saying, your mother had high hopes for you. Teyla's going to take you to the mainland to live with the Athosians. You'll like them. I probably won't ever see you again, but I expect you to live up to your mother's hopes. I didn't drag you through the forest with all your terrible complaining for nothing. You understand that, right?"

Angela kicked with her tiny legs.

"I have no idea if that's a yes or a no. Can you be more clear?"

Angela kicked again, her sweet features boring through his tough skin. He hated that.

He didn't hear Carson arrive until his friend spoke, "Alright, Rodney, Teyla will be here any moment."

"Oh." What was that strange sinking feeling in his stomach? Rodney hesitated in handing the child over, unable to convince his arms to do so. Angela just looked so sweet.

Carson seemed to see his reluctance, so instead held out a towel with a knowing grin. "You can burp her first if you'd like."

Rodney rolled his eyes, if only for show. "Yes, because I'd just love to burp a baby. And what are you grinning at?"

"Nothing. Nothing. I don't suppose you can hold that expression while I get a camera."

"Oh, shove off."

Rodney took the towel, draping it and Angela over his shoulder. Teyla walked in, her expression matching Carson's.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate you both?"

"Ah, you love us and you know it."

"You just keep telling yourself that."

"It is good to see you well," Teyla chimed in, reaching for the recently burped baby.

Rodney had to force himself to hand the kid over, but managed to do it in one quick movement. "Here, take her before she decides I make a good bathroom. I hate kids, you know that, right?"

"Do you not wish to send her off with a goodbye?"

"And why would I want to do that?"

"We would not think less of you."

"Aye, she's right. You know you want to."

Reluctantly, Rodney pushed away from his bed, his hand coming to the child's head. Ignoring the audience, he allowed himself to smile. Just when he thought he'd lost the ability to speak, the words pushed through. "Take care, Angela. Just remember what I told you about your mother and doing great things and…well, you're a good kid. Take care of yourself out there, okay?"

Angela kicked softly, including her arms in the movement this time. Her baby blues bore into his own and he wondered if he would miss the warmth that she had brought him.

He watched as Teyla took her away, wondering why he wanted the baby to stay.

It took a while to fall asleep that night, what with the impossible feeling of something missing, though he wasn't sure what. When at last his eyes drifted closed, he dreamed again of his mother and her caring ways. Of Angela and her smile.

Back on the Mainland, a baby dreamed of a woman with blood colored hair and emerald eyes. And of a strange man that held her, promising to keep her safe.

**The End**

* * *

If you are cuirous to know the details relating who kidnapped McKay and why, please read my story: Victory or Death.**  
**


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